


White World, Black Cloak

by Wristic



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 13:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11149155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wristic/pseuds/Wristic
Summary: His new Kingship has got Jon thinking, worrying about his old wounds. To confide and ease his conflictions he goes to speak with you, an old friend of Ygritte’s, a worg blinded from a punishment of your grandparents.





	White World, Black Cloak

You were sitting in front of the weirwood, a small bright red cardinal in your hand while rosy-finches and redpolls littered the snow around you, eating the seeds you had tossed out. The leather wrap around your eyes was warm, it’s only real saving grace. Behind it was scars and only flesh where the eye sockets had been melted and burned over. It happened as a child, a punishment that passed down for three generations, you never knowing the reason, just that it made you a cursed creature. But not being able to see didn’t stop your worging and certainly didn’t stop your other senses. **  
**

“Hello Jon.” You smiled hearing the crunch of snow coming out of the path. “Or should it be King Jon now? From Bastard to Commander to King. A wonder what you’ll be next.”

You heard a breath of a laugh, his boots coming a little closer, the wind blowing just as it did to let you recognize his scent. “That’s what I’m worried about. It sounds like there’s nowhere left to go now but down.”

Jon stood a few feet by you, the cardinal hoping a few degrees and tilting its head up to look at him. Jon smiled down knowing it was you and brushed the bird’s chest. You just wanted to glance his face, really see his mood. It felt a bit inappropriate to say you were pretty charmed by the scars he acquired in the battle. Must have been the Wildling in you. You broke the connection with the bird to speak and it flew away into the tree.

“I don’t know Jon. Would running away from it all and starting a cute little farm in the South really be a step down for you?”

A heavy sigh fell from his lips, that always sullen aura of his returning. Though you noticed in the small moments you could see through the animals, since his death and rebirth there was a certain hollowness to his eyes. It was like not all of him returned. It worried you.

“You’ll stay with me… won’t you?”

You chuckled. “Where would I go? Certainly not North. Although, it would be a wonder to see the world now that I’m past the Wall. People been talking about deserts, places of only sand and sun in hopes of staving off the dead. How strange is that, the world is so big it has both a place like that and another of snow and night.” You shook your head with a big smile, lost in your day dream. “Strange.”

Looking back through the bird you were quickly bonding with, Jon seemed so broken hearted, his eyes sad at the iced over pool in front of his feet. You broke the connection to give him your full attention. “Why do you think I’m going to leave you? Your one of my few friends left alive.”

He shifted a bit, the sound of his big black cloak brushing the deep snow as he sat down beside you, the heat of him close to you was comforting. He sighed heavy again. “You know, I still miss Ygritte. I still think of how things could have been, how they’d be now, the things she’d say, the obstacles we’d cross…”

Your heart sank fast. “I miss her too.” She’d been your friend since you were children, the only kid that wasn’t afraid to come near and didn’t spit on the ground you walked. She believed in you and taught you to fight when others saw your blindness as a crippling weakness. She helped your sense of humor shine. She made you strong. Losing Ygritte was like losing a limb.

“But then I think, I’m glad you’re here.” You smiled for him. “I’m glad I’ve met you, and that while it was a hard start and you didn’t always approve of me, that we could become friends. I’ve never said this, but I feel lost when you’re gone from my sight. For some reason I worry it’s going to be the last time… that I’m going to find you full of arrows…”

You tsked. “Oh Jon.” You held out your hand and he took it for you, the leather icy on your bare hand. You gave a reassuring squeeze. “I wish you didn’t think that. Ygritte was the warrior, I was more her clumsy cohort.”

“You say that but I still remember that punch.” You both laughed remembering happening upon each other before the two could reunite. You’d been so angry with him breaking your best friends heart, a heart that was fiery and wild and didn’t cry easy, you damn near knocked his lights out.

“Yeah well, I’m not going to leave your side and I’m never the first in a fight. Just tell me when you want to ditch your Kingly duties and I’ll find a good cave for us to run away to.”

You felt his body jolt with a surprised laughter. “Or maybe just a regular cabin…”

“That’s not nearly as romantic.” He didn’t hold it in this time and you were relieved to help him get his spirits back.

When the laughter died down, there was only a small pause as your hand was lifted and you felt the press of lips, cracked but somehow still soft and warm on your knuckles.

“Thank you,” The whisper of your name had hot breath ghosting and dampening your hand.

You were tense, unsure what to do as your heart raced with uncertainty. You used the cardinal to see him sitting beside you with your hand still lifted near his chin, his dark eyes far and contemplative. In an instant they jumped up to your face. Jon leaned nearer to you. You may have been blind for most of your life but an intensity in the air like this was hard to miss. You broke connection to face him directly, a questioning in the atmosphere.

Neither of you said anything. With a gulp you let him continue closing in until a heated brush fell on your lips, hesitant to press further without your approval. The rush in your veins was hard to deny. Your heart a flutter with only now realizing, maybe more _allowing_ , some affection beyond friendship.

Your cold fingers came up brushing his clean shaven jaw. Jon melted into an even warmer kiss, his hand coming up behind your neck to pull you in deeper.

The chill of the glove sent a shiver down your spine, making you crave more of his warmth. You pulled yourself into his chest, gripping the straps of his great black fur cloak to embrace you. His arms snaked around your form, breaking away the kiss and burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your hand came up cupping his jaw, running a thumb along his cheek, pressing yours against his temple. You enveloped him as much as he did you and it soothed you both, the quietness of the white and black and red enough to trick anyone into thinking nothing was wrong with the world.

Jon held you a little tighter, kissing at your neck, neither of you ready to leave, not for awhile.


End file.
